


Morning Glory

by capsicleonyourleft



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capsicleonyourleft/pseuds/capsicleonyourleft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a great many things Tony loves about Steve Rogers. His propensity for getting up at the asscrack of dawn, however, is definitely not on that particular list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Glory

Consciousness strikes in the form of the sudden absence of warmth at his back, forcing Tony to peel his eyes open with considerable difficulty. The room is dark save for the sliver of light peeking from underneath the closed bathroom door, and he can just make out the sound of running water. Groaning, he rolls over to the vacated spot on the bed, finding it pleasantly warm, the clean smell of lavender lingering on the pillowcase.

There are a great many things Tony loves about Steve Rogers. His propensity for getting up at the asscrack of dawn, however, is definitely not on that particular list. (There is, of course, such a list, carefully catalogued and expanded on a near-daily basis. Maintaining a proper file system is very important.)

The bathroom door opens with a soft click, and Tony arches toward the sound, extending his arm in Steve’s direction. For a moment, he wishes he could stretch as far as Mr. Fantastic, then immediately chides himself for feeling envious of Reed Richards.

“Don’t go,” Tony whines theatrically, craning his neck to give Steve his best puppy eyes.

Steve walks over to the bed, gloriously naked, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Sleep, I’ll be back soon,” he promises, placing a kiss on the top of Tony’s head and slinking away before Tony can make a grab for him.

On more than one occasion, Tony has tried to break Steve’s resolve and coax him back into bed. Tragically, Steve’s more serious about his exercise regimen than Spider-Man is about his secret identity, so thus far Tony’s efforts have garnered little to no success. But Tony Stark is not one to back away from a challenge.

Steve’s muscles bunch beautifully as he rummages through their dresser for a pair of underwear and sweats. (Tony might be hazy with sleep, but he’d have to be all but dead not to appreciate Steve Rogers’ bare ass.) The ARMY t-shirt he pulls on is at least two sizes too small, stretching the block letters across his chest, showing off his trim waist and broad shoulders.

“It’s cold without you,” Tony grumbles pitifully. It sounds pathetic, he knows, but it’s true—Steve is like a furnace, and Tony’s been spoiled. He might even be pouting.

Now dressed, Steve walks back toward the bed, wearing that fond smile he seems to reserve for Tony alone. Grabbing hold of the comforter, he rearranges it to wrap tightly across Tony’s front, tucking the corners to create a blanket burrito.

“There, all better,” he declares, mouth curving in that self-satisfied smirk that drives Tony wild. Then, because Steve Rogers is both a total sap and a _complete asshole_ , he kisses the tip of Tony’s nose. “Get some rest, your board meeting isn’t until noon,” he adds over his shoulder before leaving the room.

Tony tries to get back to sleep, but it’s no use. He tosses and turns, drifting in and out of a fitful and restless slumber. After close to half an hour, he gives up on the idea altogether. Pulling on a robe, he goes to brush his teeth before venturing out of the bedroom.

No one else is in the kitchen when he gets there. Tony thanks his lucky stars, making a beeline for the full coffee pot. This, right here, is reason #73 Tony loves Steve. (He  _might_  have the list memorized.)

Just as he opens the cupboard to get his favourite mug, an energy blast flies by his ear, missing his head by a narrow margin and hitting the wall. Alarmed, he jumps back and stumbles, bumping into the kitchen island with his hip before regaining his balance.

“Jesus!” Even for a superhero, a near-death experience before six A.M. is a bit much. He turns to glare at the only person who could be responsible. “What  _the fuck_ , Jess!”

“You better not be hogging all the coffee again, Stark,” she says simply as she enters the room, no hint of regret in her voice. The two of them find themselves in this situation every so often, unable to return to sleep once their respective partners have left, unaccustomed to a cold bed. One of these days, the headline in the papers is going to read  _“Spider-Woman murders Iron Man Over Coffee Dispute.”_

This particular morning, Jessica looks even more bitter about being awake at such an ungodly hour than Tony feels. There are pillow creases on her cheek and her hair’s pulled back in a messy bun. The blue t-shirt she’s wearing is one of Carol’s.

“I learned my lesson after last time, all right, you can cool it with the venom blasts,” he says as he fills up two mugs and hands one to Jess. He was gonna try and get away with drinking it all, but she doesn’t need to know that.

They settle down to drink their coffee in companionable silence. They’ve quickly discovered that they’re both completely incapable of, and utterly averse to, any kind of socializing without a substantial amount of caffeine in their system. An ex-spy and an entrepreneur, neither of them is a stranger to early hours or an odd schedule, but they’ve never been able to stop resenting mornings.

After they’ve drained two cups each, Jess is the first to speak. “Think they’ll ever keep normal hours?”

Tony shrugs. “Military habits die hard, I guess.”

Jess looks contemplative. “At least the morning sex is worth it.”

“Hear, hear!” Tony acknowledges with a smile, and they clink their now-empty mugs together.

After placing their mugs in the sink, Jess walks towards the stove, and Tony watches in horror as she reaches for a frying pan.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” he springs from his seat, ready to intercept, “what are you doing?”

Jess turns to look at him, brows furrowed. “Making breakfast? Superhero appetites, remember?”

She’s right, of course; Steve and Carol always return ravenous after their morning workout. Still, leaving one Jessica Drew in charge of cooking duties can only end in disaster, and Tony just finished upgrading the kitchen.

“We’ve been through this,” Tony says, wrapping one hand around her wrist to pry the pan away from her with the other. “Do you want a repeat of The 2012 Incident?”

“That was  _one_  time!” Jess pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Besides, I don’t see what the big deal was. Peter’s eyebrows grew back, didn’t they?”

Tony gestures to his own face. “The stakes are considerably higher this time, can’t risk harming the merchandise,” he jokes. Jess scowls. He really hopes she’s not going to fire another venom blast at him. In his best diplomatic voice he adds, “You can… cut up some fruit? You know Captain Nutrition will insist we all eat something healthy. And maybe start another pot of coffee? The others will be getting up soon.”

Jess scrunches her nose but acquiesces, reaching for the fruit bowl on the counter. Letting out a sigh of relief, Tony starts gathering the necessary ingredients from the fridge and pantry. He’s forbidden Jarvis from starting his workday until  _at least_  seven A.M., and it’s not like he doesn’t know his way around the kitchen, after all.

Tony is just finishing up the first batch of pancakes when the elevator dings in the other room. Carol and Steve’s voices carry to the kitchen, Steve making some dig about the ‘Chair Force.’ The resulting  _oof_  can only mean Carol has punched some part of his body in retaliation.  _Hard._

“Here they go again,” says Jess. Even with his back turned to her, Tony can sense her epic eyeroll.

Tony turns off the stove, handing Jess the stacked plate .  

“Morning, Avengers,” Carol calls out as she and Steve enter the kitchen.

Before Tony can reply, a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist. “Mornin’, Shellhead,” Steve says into his ear, kissing the back of his neck and hooking his chin on his shoulder. His face is a little cold from the morning chill, but Tony doesn’t complain.

“Morning,” he replies, a smile spreading on his face as he turns in Steve’s arms to get a good look at him. His hair is all mussed from the wind, sticky strands plastered to his forehead, and his cheeks and neck are tinted red. The only other time Steve ever looks this disheveled is after a few rounds in the sack, and a surge of pride warms Tony’s chest as he recounts their activities last night.

He cards his fingers through the short hair on the back of Steve’s neck, pulling him in for a proper kiss. His lips are cool and his mouth still tastes of his minty toothpaste, and Tony drinks it all in greedily. Steve backs them up against the refrigerator, pressing their bodies flush together from foot to chest.

“ _Eww_ , some of us are trying to eat!” Jessica whines, which is ironic seeing as she’s chewing with her mouth open and her pancakes are drenched in a frankly disgusting amount of syrup. Tony’s pretty certain the entirety of Canada doesn’t have that much maple syrup.

Steve turns to look at Carol, who’s ignoring her own food in favour of stealing bits off of Jess’ plate without even trying to be sneaky about it. “I’m working on appeasing  _my_  grumpy superhero--you should do your part with yours, Danvers.”

“I’m not grumpy!” Tony and Jess exclaim at the same time, matching scowls on their faces.

Carol bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, the traitor, giving Steve an amused look. “Sure you’re not, babe,” she tells Jess, not bothering to make it sound convincing, and kisses her girlfriend. Jess folds her arms across her chest, but the set of her mouth softens.

Tony’s attention shifts back to his boyfriend when he feels a light touch on his cheek. Steve’s hand travels down Tony’s neck, sliding underneath the material of his robe to brush along his collarbones. His fingers are gentle but sure as they trace the scar tissue around the RT unit. When he covers it with his palm, Tony’s eyes slip shut, overwhelmed by the intimacy of the gesture. Steve’s hand keeps wandering down until it reaches the sash tied around Tony’s waist, giving it a firm tug.

“Dammit, Rogers,” Tony says, breathless. He presses closer to Steve and nuzzles the juncture between his neck and shoulder, mouthing along the sharp line of his jaw. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“After breakfast,” Steve whispers directly into Tony’s ear, voice husky and full of promise, “you can have me as dessert.”

It’s a terribly cheesy come-on, of course, but Tony still shudders, body strung tight and humming with anticipation.

“Blueberry?”

“Huh?” Tony asks, opening his eyes. His brain is a scrambled mess, and he has no clue what Steve is on about.

“The pancakes. Blueberry?” Steve asks, fluttering his lashes in mock innocence he never possessed. He tilts his head toward the dining area, where Carol and Jess are rapidly demolishing the food.

“Oh. Yeah,” Tony confirms. They’re Steve’s favourite.

Steve beams, releasing Tony to get plates from the cupboard above the sink. They join Carol and Jess at the table, and Steve spends all of breakfast with his hand on Tony’s thigh.

When they’re all done eating, Steve carries the dishes to the sink, and Jess volunteers to help him dry. Tony doesn’t even bother suggest he use the dishwasher, knowing it’s another habit the army has instilled in him.

Tony feels Carol’s eyes on him, turning to look at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says, voice gone soft and quiet. “It’s just… it’s good to see you happy. Both of you. I’m proud of you, Tony.”

“Yeah,” he replies, reaching across the table to cover her hand with his, “you, too.” In many ways, Carol is the person who understands him best, having gone through many of the same trials herself.

“Did you ever think we’d end up here?” There’s a note of vulnerability in her voice that Tony recognizes all too well, and she threads her fingers through his.

“Not in a million years,” he admits, squeezing her hand in reassurance. He looks over to the sink, watching as Steve and Jess splash water on each other instead of getting any actual cleaning done. He smiles when Jess manages to get suds on Steve’s hair. “But here we are.”

 


End file.
